


Prumano Drabbles

by ItaRoma42



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APH rare pair, Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hetalia, Humor, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, POV Prussia (Hetalia), POV South Italy (Hetalia), aph, aph prussia - Freeform, aph south italy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItaRoma42/pseuds/ItaRoma42
Summary: A bunch of Prumano one-shots and drabbles.Language warning, edit tags as needed. Requests are welcomed.
Relationships: Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 58





	1. Anesthetic Love

**Author's Note:**

> A request from: http://veneziano.tumblr.com  
> Human AU where Gilbert gets his wisdom teeth removed. Enjoy.

“Dwate mi’ph”

“What?” The stunning, beautiful, Mediterranean hunk of a man that was also Gilbert’s nurse replied bewildered. What Gilbert had and still trying to say for the past 2 minutes through a mouth full of gauze was ‘Date me’, but that was proving to be difficult.

Today Gilbert, a young and totally responsible adult, had his wisdom teeth surgically removed. He had two previous check-ups beforehand and both times a certain sour looking nurse had caught the German’s eye. Sure, he always wore a bitter expression on his face, yet that did not faze Gilbert at all. Not even his fiery attitude discouraged the albino. He found the nurse extremely attractive.

“Bwate mph.” Gilbert tried again with an alluring mixture of drool and blood dripping down his chin.

“Are you even trying to say something?” The drop-dead gorgeous man replied as he used a clean gauze to wipe off the drool. “Stop talking, you’re going to open your stitches.”

“Gwurrggh.” Gilbert sweetly gurgled back, gazing into the nurse’s eyes. They were an intoxicating hazel, a blend of amber gold, green grassy pastures, and rainy gray. Deep, rich brown hair perfectly fell around furrowed eyebrows and his sun-kissed skin. A perfect ass that just barely peeked out from the scrub uniform. A beautiful, perfect man. Gilbert’s angel. His one desire.

“Alright we need to change the gauze. Open up.” Oh, that sweet, bone-chilling accent. “No, not your legs!” Gilbert felt a pressure shoving his legs back onto the medical chair. His head felt heavy, yet light. His thoughts were clouded and he had just begun to realize he was laying in a new room than before the anesthesia had kicked in.

“Aauuggh.” This didn’t matter as long as the hot nurse was taking care of him. Gilbert was entranced with the way the nurse plucked out the disgusting bloodied gauze from his mouth, or at least, he thought that was where his mouth hole was. He didn’t feel anything touching his mouth. “I’d lwoose a tooph fuar yew.”

“Stop talking or else you’re going to break the stitches.” Oh god, that glare.

“Be worwt comin’ bac fuar yew.”

“Still putting new gauze in your mouth so could you stop biting my fingers?!” Gilbert tried to giggle but it had turned into a gurgle while the nurse shoved the new gauze into what he wasn’t sure was his mouth anymore. He raised his hand to touch his face and felt nothing. “Put that down and relax.”

Again, Gilbert felt a pressure pulling his hand away and down out of sight. “Wha… Cun nowt pheel...”

“Jesus, I think they gave you too much morpheme. I’ll give you 5 more minutes to sleep it off before I call whoever has to drive your godforsaken drugged ass home.”

“Did phey twake phem ouwt alreawy??” Gilbert could’ve sworn he fell asleep just for one second before waking up to the beautiful angel hovering over him. His surgery couldn’t have finished so soon.

“Stop moving ass- sit back down!”

“Ooph.” The German felt his body being pushed back into a hard chair, two strong hands were placed on his shoulders as his head spun. Then a hand was rubbing his chest, a comforting warmth spread through his body from the contact and his eyes eased closed. A soothing Italian accent lulling him back into the darkness.

… 

“Bruder… Bruder? Wake up…!”

“Mpph.” Gilbert couldn’t wake up, his head felt too heavy.

“Beilschmidt, get up!” Someone spoke up as Gilbert’s world violently shook. The albino rolled his head to one side, using all his effort to open his eyes halfway. He could barely see the wheelchair and familiar scrub pants before he felt two people pulling him to sit up. “I need you to get into this wheelchair, Beilschmidt.”

“Hmph… Anyphing for you, babe...” The albino smiled (at least he thought he was, still couldn’t feel his face). He recognized that accent.

Before he knew it, or while he had blacked out for a second, he was on a wheelchair. His younger brother, Ludwig, was telling him something. Gilbert couldn’t quite understand yet and tried to tell his brother, but all that came out was another gurgle and more drool.

“Mein gott...” Ludwig muttered as he took out new gauze from an envelope. He begun to wipe the drool from the albino’s chin until Gilbert suddenly pushed his hand away.

“Dow’t twoush meh!”

“Bruder, what are you doing?!”

“I wann’d phe hawt nurs’ tuo twoush meh.” More drool and blood dripped from Gilbert’s lips as he spoke. He saw the nurse bury his red face in his hand before the albino’s head fell backward, hanging over the wheelchair. It still felt too heavy to control. Before more drool could get out, Gilbert decided to try sucking it all in, much to everyone’s disapproval.

“Dumb butt, you’re going to choke!” The nurse growled as Gilbert did just that. He felt a hand lift his head back up as he coughed on the iron taste in the back of his throat.

“I am so sorry if he’s been a trouble to you, Mr. Vargas.” Ludwig apologized as he gently pat Gilbert’s back while still supporting his head. The albino leaned forward and a bloodied gauze dropped onto his lap.

“Aaauurgh! Mah tonwuuee!”

“Shh! It’s not your tongue.” Vargas, the hot nurse, silenced Gilbert as he tossed the old gauze from the German’s lap and his mouth away. “He’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry.”

With fresh gauze, an ice pack, and more reassuring from Vargas and the doctor that they did indeed take out his wisdom teeth, Gilbert was rolled out from the back by Ludwig towards the front of the office.

“Bye, Gil! Get lots of rest!” The cheery receptionist called from behind the desk. Gilbert gurgled a reply with finger guns, then suddenly they were exiting the elevator and heading out into the parking lot. The albino was sure he had blacked out again.

“I put extra gauze in your bag, you’re gonna need it.” Vargas had his hands on his hips as he stood by the car while Ludwig helped Gilbert into the passenger’s seat. Gilbert didn’t want to leave, but his seat belt kept him in place.

“Thank you very much.”

No, he didn’t get to say goodbye yet. This was all happening too fast!

“Yog hapHH MAH NUMBAR!”

“Shh, bruder!”

“CALL MEH!”

“Quiet, you shouldn’t be yelling!” Ludwig quieted Gilbert down but it was too late. Gilbert chuckled through the absorbent cotton as he watched his beloved nurse’s face turn red and furiously push the wheelchair back inside the building.

…

The drive home started silently. Gilbert was focused on remembering every moment the nurse had touched him. He never wanted to forget. “Ludvwa, hit meh. Hit meh teewph ouwt.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I haph to go bac. Phe lowve of meh liphe.. ish in phat buildin’!”

“Gilbert, calm down. You will go back after two weeks for your check-up, remember? Just rest, and be patient. Two weeks will go by faster than you’ll think.” This news did indeed calm the wild German down. And for the next 10 minutes, Gilbert watched himself in the car’s review mirror as he played with his lips. He couldn’t feel a thing on his face and it was fascinating. Then he rolled his head to look at his younger brother. A thought had occurred and he needed to know the answer.

“Whawt was phat nurse’s name?”

“Vargas. Lovino Vargas.”

“Lowvino….” Gilbert rolled his head back and gazed out the window. He watched the snow-covered building pass by. “He hawd beauti’phl eues...”


	2. Coffee Beans and Tattoos

Lovino hated mornings. Being forced by society to get up at an ungodly hour, fight traffic to clock into a shitty job that he loathed with his entire being, and yet has never thought of looking for a new career. 

“That’ll be 4.25.”

The Italian grimaced at the price but took out his wallet and held out his card to pay for his coffee. As a pale hand reached out and took the other end of the card Lovino’s eyes fell on the barista's forearm. The multiple tattoos that covered it is what caught the brunet off guard. This was a different arm than his usual morning routine. Hazel eyes trailed up the man’s arm, admiring each different art style, colorful and classic black inks intertwined with each other in a beautiful symphony all the way up to the bicep. Slender shoulders connected with the arm, a rich brown apron covered what looked liked a graphic black t-shirt which heavily contrasted with the man’s pale skin. Then his eyes were the most unusual color Lovino had ever seen. In the dim light, they seemed to be deep red. Ghostly white eyebrows furrowed together in the most handsome glare Lovino had witnessed and- oh shit. 

Lovino jerked his hand away from his credit card as if it was a lighted match while his whole face flushed red in embarrassment. The corner of the barista’s thin lips twisted in a smug grin as he could finally swipe the Italian’s card to finish the transaction. Lovino stood in front of the counter awkwardly waiting, wishing god would strike him down dead already. As the barista handed back the brunet’s card, Lovino tugged at it before the albino employee winked, then let go of the card. 

Lovino hated mornings.


	3. don't do this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER! I DO NOT CONDONE DRUNK DRIVING! 
> 
> I made this drabble for shits and giggles, but seriously I do not like or encourage drinking and driving. This is just a light-hearted drabble, no one was hurt in the drabble, and there are consequences from getting a DUI. 
> 
> ALSO I put zero effort into this fic so sorry for any "that's not how this works" moments.
> 
> "Ow' ba' is i'd" - "How bad is it?"  
> "Che palle" - "What balls"  
> "Stronzo" - "Asshole"

0.249.

Gilbert stared at the numbers in disbelief. 0.249!

“’Ow bad is i'd?” Romano’s words slurred as he spoke. He had already braced himself against the side of the car, his arms spread out over the roof to hold himself up. Gilbert glanced between the breathalyzer and the personification of Southern Italy. Without skipping a beat, the German reached for the walkie talkie on his shoulder and spoke into it.

“Yeah, can I have an ambulance, code 3.” 

“Wha… ‘Ow ba’ is i’d?!” 

“0.249, turn around and put your hands behind your back.” Gilbert listened to the dispatcher responding as he placed the breathalyzer down on the roof of the car. He quickly gave the location and pulled out his handcuffs, ignoring the Italian’s protests. “For gott sakes turn around or I’m putting another charge on your ass!” 

“Che pallleee!!” Romano sighed loudly as he rolled to one side, still leaning against the police car with his arms stretched outward. 

“Any weapons on you?” Gilbert had decided to join the police force to make an honest living while fulfilling his desire to protect and serve the German civilians. 

“No!”

“Anything that’ll poke or stab me?” The German spoke as he pat the Italian down. He was aware that he’d come across very odd situations during this job. “Romano, stop resisting and let me cuff you.” 

“Stronzo!” Romano hissed while relaxing his arms so Gilbert could finally cuff him. 

“Sit over here while we wait for the ambulance.” The last thing Gilbert had ever expected was to arrest a nation for a DUI. Though it somehow made sense that out of all of the nations it would be South Italy. 

Gilbert sat the Italian down on the grass on the side of the road. Then he looked back at the one tree standing perfectly still in the countryside’s empty fields. And Romano’s rental, somewhat parked underneath the tree, except the Italian had side swiped it. Gilbert sighed and turned back to the Italian, realizing that he had been venting about something in his native tongue. The German couldn’t understand since all the words were slurred together. “Hey… Hey, Romano. Romano! Romano, shut up for a fucking second!!” 

“Fucking what?!” Romano screamed back. 

“Your license is definitely getting revoked for this.”

“YeAH, NO SHIT!”


	4. The White Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from my sister: "Some kind of fantasy universe." 
> 
> Welp. Princes and Dragons it is. 
> 
> Please send in requests for anything Prumano or if you want to see more of something!

Romano jolted upright in the bed, head whirling around to take in his surroundings. He was in an empty bedroom, dusty broken furniture scattered around the large space. The castle looked abandoned, though Romano knew for certain it wasn’t. Throwing the torn blankets aside the brunet hopped out of the bed and quickly pulled his boots on. He ran towards the large wooden doors. Taking a breath, he tried the knob. The door opened. Well, at least his captor was nice enough to let him escape.

Peaking out, Romano carefully stepped out into the dim hallway, weak sunlight forcing its way through tattered curtains and cracks in the stone walls. The place was such a dump that the prince was more concerned about the ceiling falling on top of him than anything else. Motivation to escape increasing, Romano moved as quickly and quietly as possible around the castle. He was genuinely surprised that the dragon could fit through all the hallways. His mind started to fill with more questions as he looked into rooms and ran up and downstairs. How did he end up in a bed? How could the beast take off his shoes without destroying them? Or gnawing his feet off?

Romano pushed another door open. Damn, another dining room. Before he could leave, the door on the other end burst open and a man walked through. Both stood at opposite ends of the table, staring at each other. The man was albino; pale skin, white hair, and red eyes. The dragon. Romano’s captor had a half-eaten loaf of bread as big as his own head in one hand, the other held more bread and fruits against his torso. He wore a plain white undershirt tucked into brown trousers. It looked like he had dug it out of a closet from one of the many bedrooms. The dragon finished chewing then swallowed.

“Hey,” he spoke with a twisted smile on his face.

Romano felt a lump in his throat as he scanned the room. Then he saw it. A display of two swords crossed together on the wall at the left side of the table. His eyes turned back to his captor, who had watched him closely and saw what the prince was looking at. For a moment neither moved, Romano didn’t even breathe. Suddenly Romano dashed toward the swords.

The dragon threw his food aside as he ran in the same direction. Romano tried to grab the handle of one of the swords, but his captor was right behind him in seconds and the brunet had to retreat to the end of the table without one. They paused, the albino guarding the swords and the prince holding onto the back of a chair from the other side. Out of the corner of his eye, Romano could see light pouring out from the kitchen. Maybe there was a door leading outside. The albino slowly stepped toward the table, his piercing red eyes studying the other man’s every move. Romano leaned toward the door he had come from and the dragon waited. In one quick movement, Romano feinted toward one end of the table. When the albino raced alongside him, Romano turned on his heel and made a break for the kitchen. He heard the dragon curse loudly. As the prince turned around to slam the door shut he saw the dragon leap over the table to reach him in time. He was just a hair too slow. Romano braced himself against the heavy door and locked it, hurriedly glancing for something to hold the door closed. All the while the albino banged his body and fists on the other side.

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” The dragon roared, his voice sounding scratchy from desperation.

“OH, I THINK I FUCKING DO!” Romano shouted back while he snatched heavy bags of flour and potatoes, throwing them against the door. There really wasn’t much he could move from the kitchen without breaking his back, so he began climbing the counter to jump out of the window above it.

“JUST LISTEN TO ME! LET ME EXPLAI-”

“EXPLAIN WHAT, YOU DUMB…” Romano’s eyes darted around the room for an insult. “YOU DUMB POTATO HEAD!!”

He broke the glass window with a skillet. Romano swore he heard the dragon mutter something like “Wow, real original…!” before he climbed out the window and fell onto the overgrown grass.

Looking up, he saw dense woods just beyond the castle’s courtyard. He sprinted for the trees, not caring about how exposed he was in the open. He could run fast and there was no way the dragon could transform without getting the castle to collapse on top of him. Fuck being kidnapped, fuck that damn dragon.

Romano could almost taste his freedom as he ran across the grassy field before the woods. Then he heard an all too familiar roar behind him. Looking back he saw the large white dragon bounding behind him, wings outstretched, teeth bared, and getting close extremely fast. Romano let out an unmanly scream of absolute terror when the dragon glided over the prince and snatched him off the ground as easy as an owl catching a mouse.

They hurdled into the air as the albino rode the winds high into the sky. Romano couldn’t tell if he had the wind knocked out of him when the dragon grabbed him or he had screamed until his lungs gave out, but his head suddenly felt light. Breathless, and the blood rushing toward his feet, Romano lost consciousness watching the ground grow smaller by the second.

…

Romano woke up in a cold, dark, and slightly damp dungeon cell. Groaning from his headache, he sat up and turned his head toward the dingy light outside of his cell. The dragon sat on the other side, back into his human form. He had a lamp hung up on the wall behind him and he was wearing an old, frilly nightgown with some holes peppering the fabric. The albino was glaring at Romano, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You really don’t like heights, huh?”

Romano felt his face grow hot at the comment. “I do not!! It’s hard to fucking breathe while being squeezed to death! Learn your own strength, geez!” He crossed his arms over his own chest and glared right back at the dragon.

Romano’s captor just smiled back, clearly not buying it. “I think I know my own strength. You, on the other hand, need to get over your fear. You’re just making things harder on yourself because of it.”

“Oh piss off! It’s not my fault you decided to tear out of your own clothes.”

The dragon had opened his mouth to reply. “Actua-”

“And if you’re gonna wear a dress at least keep your legs closed!” Romano interrupted.

The albino shut his mouth and slowly adjusted himself on the stool. The brunet could clearly see the blush on the dragon’s pale face regardless of the crappy lighting. The albino’s embarrassment amused Romano. The man certainly looked intimidating. He was lean, but fit, and had a stern air about him. Strangely enough, even with his serious expression, there was a cocky attitude underneath it all. His eyes gave it away. That, at least, was obvious to Romano.

The albino gazed back at Romano, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. His eyes, however, were playful and curious, as if he wanted to know what Romano was thinking. The prince looked down and the dragon coughed to break the silence.

“Well now that you’re contained, I’d like to explain myself.”

“You don’t have to. You kidnapped me cause I’m a prince from a wealthy family, blah, blah, I’m a damsel in distress or some bullshit.” Romano crossed his legs and held his chin in his hand with his elbow propped top of his knee. “I know the drill. Though, I’m curious as to why you’d pick me instead of some pretty princess in another kingdom.”

The dragon looked more confused than before, silent for a second, then he shook his head. “No. No, I didn’t kidnap you for money or whatever else you were thinking. I actually wanted to talk to you.”

Now it was Romano’s turn to look confused. He lifted his head from his hand. “What… What the hell do you want to talk to me about!?”

“I want to become a knight.”

“You want to become a what?!”

“A knight.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” Romano continued to stare in disbelief. “You want to become a knight?!”

“Yeah,” the dragon shrugged and folded his arms. “I thought that was obvious the first time I said it.”

The dungeon became quiet again as the prince processed this information. All Romano could do was look at his captor dumbfoundedly.

The albino grinned. “Want to help me?”

“Help you?! You kidnapped me!” Romano shrieked.

“Very easily.” His grin grew wider before he quickly sobered up. “But seriously, would you have heard me out if you knew what I am?”

Romano let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright… Start talking.”


	5. Oh No...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay inspired to write a fanfic based off of a tik tok of this girl helping this drunk guy take off his shirt in a parking lot. My brain saw it and immediately thought “prumano” so here we go.

Romano sighed exasperatedly as he got out of the car, his younger brother laughing inside. 

“You have to.. Haha! You have to help him, Roma! Hehehehe!” Feliciano forced his words out through fits of giggles. 

Romano did not want to help the drunk man, but there was something so pitiful about him struggling to get his button-up shit off his head that made the Italian walk over to the car parked beside them. 

“Jesus Christ… What am I getting myself into?” The brunet muttered to himself as he reached up and grabbed a wad of fabric from the drunkard’s shirt. “Hold still, moron!” 

A surprised muffled sound came from underneath the shirt. The man’s arms were upright, midway from pulling the shirt over his head when he had gotten stuck, which had left him stumbling by his friend’s car for a good minute or so. Romano could hear laughter from the drunkard’s friends inside the other car as well. The Italian wasn’t surprised; they were at a bar after all. 

Finally undoing all of the buttons with lots of curses on Romano’s end, the man was freed and the shirt ended up slipping back onto the drunkard’s arms. Bleach blonde hair first caught the Italian’s attention, then it fell down to the man’s face. A strong jawline, a cocky smile, flushed cheeks that were more prominent because of his fair skin tone, and bright red eyes. 

The Italian felt his own face blush as his eyes trailed downward before he could stop. Since the albino’s shirt was unbuttoned, Romano could clearly see the man kept in shape. 

‘Oh no…’ Romano thought before he pulled his sight upward. The drunkard just stood there, dazed with his lips parted in surprise as he gawked at the Italian in front of him. Something about the man made Romano’s heart skip a beat. He hated it.

Before the albino could even process what happened Romano turned on his heel and quickly marched back to his car and got inside. Feliciano was still a bubbly, giggly drunk mess. He began teasing his older brother as Romano turned on the car and drove off. 

“Hehehe, should I give you his number?” Feliciano said in a playful tone. 

“God, shut up!” Romano finally snapped before turning onto the road, heading home.

The last thing Romano needed was another fling with some hot guy.


	6. Threatening Pillow Talk

Gilbert opened his eyes to a dark bedroom. He wasn’t sure what had woke him up. All he could hear was Romano’s steady breathing, his chest slowly rising and falling, and his heartbeat pulsing through the Prussian’s head. Everything was peaceful inside the Italian’s bedroom. Both men holding onto each other underneath the cozy blankets with Romano on his back and Gilbert lying on top of the Italian’s chest.

Then Southern Italy suddenly inhaled, the Prussian knew what this meant, and lifted himself slightly above his partner so he could roll onto his side. Gilbert lowered himself behind Romano and slid one arm underneath the Italian’s head while the other wrapped around his waist. Romano would move around a lot if he was half asleep, which didn’t help since Gilbert was a light sleeper. Besides Romano’s loud snoring for restless nights, the Prussian had nothing else to complain about when sharing a bed with his partner. Romano had the perfect body to sleep with, in Gilbert’s mind.

“Nurgh…” Romano groaned into his pillow. After a few more muffled noises, Gilbert wondered if the Italian was awake or having some kind of bad dream.

“Hey…” Gilbert whispered softly into the back of the Italian’s neck, sending a chill down the brunet’s spine. “You awake, Roma…?”

“Noo…” the Italian replied slowly. The Prussian figured he was being sarcastic.

“You sure?” Gilbert playfully responded. There were no limits to the Prussian’s teasing, even at 3 o’clock in the morning.

There was a long pause on the other’s end and Gilbert was beginning to think that Romano really wasn’t in the mood to be made fun of. Until the Italian spoke. 

“Asshole… You’re an asshole.”

Gilbert chuckled breathlessly. This was, by far, the least hurtful thing Romano could come up with.

“Aw, come on. You can do better…!” Gilbert still whispered. They were in Italy, so Feliciano was in the room across from them sleeping. Though Gilbert doubted the younger Italian was a light sleeper.

“You do shit… That I don’t like,” Romano grumbled softly.

“Uh, okay…?” Gilbert was a little confused. The Italian’s tone was very serious but groggy from being just woken up. Plus it didn’t help that Romano was facing away from Gilbert, so he couldn’t see his expression.

Romano calmly sighed before continuing. “I’m tired of your shit….”

“Wha… What did I-”

“Tired of seeing your shitty face...”

“Ouch…?” Now Gilbert was beginning to get a little concerned. Yes, it wasn’t the first time Romano said something like that but, in this context, it was hitting differently.

Gilbert was confident. He knew what he wanted in a relationship. Romano was the opposite. The Italian had an idea of what he wanted, but he had trouble expressing himself and had low self-esteem. So the Prussian made sure to be extra careful during the early stages of their relationship. They barely told anyone except for their own brothers of their relationship.

“Getting a little deep there, Roma. How about we talk about this some other time?”

“God… I hate you.”

Gilbert bit his lower lip at that one. Again, Romano had said things like these many times, but it was usually when the two of them were bantering back and forth, and Gilbert could always see Romano trying very hard not to smile afterwards.

“Roma…?” Gilbert lifted himself over his partner, trying to make out his facial expressions. “Are you being serious right now…?”

The Italian’s eyes were ever so slightly open, staring off into the distance with his eyebrows furrowed together. The smallest frown pulled against Romano’s lips. This was the most disappointed look Gilbert had ever witnessed on his partner.

“What the hell do you think I mean?” Romano spoke clearly now and a bad feeling sank down the Prussian’s stomach.

“Um… I thought everything was okay?” Gilbert felt extremely uncomfortable as he began questioning himself and their relationship. Self-doubt was the last thing on earth Gilbert ever wanted to experience, and now Romano was making that a reality. “Look, let’s talk about this tomorrow morning. Alright?”

“I’m going to kill your whole family.”

The Prussian froze. Alright, now it was getting too personal. And weird. Gilbert opened his mouth to speak before Romano interrupted.

“Your whole potato family… Potatoes aren’t people…”

“Oh.” Gilbert sighed in relief as his whole body relaxed.

“Potato suffrage… Ain’t real,” Romano mumbled, his voice growing quiet again.

It had finally clicked for Gilbert. Romano was talking in his sleep. Laying on his back, the Prussian placed his hands on his forehead then massaged his eyes and temples with his palms.

“Oh, thank god…” he whispered.

“Get that rock.. outta my face… Cumbreath,” the Italian grumbled.

The Prussian laid awake for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling while listening to Romano mumble nonsense under the blankets. Finally the Italian grew quiet and his breathing was steady again. Gilbert couldn’t help but smirk once it was all over.

“Potato suffrage…” he repeated quietly as a plan of revenge formed in his head.

Prussia decided that once Romano woke up, they were going to have a very interesting morning.


End file.
